Just Breathe

After a miserable race at St. Anthony's Triathlon a few weekends ago that I would just like to put behind me (although, I am happy to report that I dropped more than 4 minutes off my swim time from that race 2 years ago!), May 1 arrived and it was time to hold up the bargain I made with myself, and start my runstreak. I was a little afraid, a little hesitant, and honestly dreading the idea of running 31 days in a row.

It was an ugly race for me, but at least I got this really cool (although really heavy) stained glass finisher medal

Before I was able to hit the pavement for my first run of the month, though, I had to visit the doctor. I've talked about how difficult running and training have been for me for the past several months. Mostly, my lung capacity has felt compromised when running (also a little with swimming and cycling), as if there is a cork in my windpipe keeping me from taking in enough air when I try to run faster than a jog. After doing a little research on my own, I began to think I had developed exercise-induced asthma. But I also worried that there were other issues afoot, thanks to my nearly-constant physical fatigue.

I visited an Internist, a nice enough woman who seemed to agree with my self-diagnosis, and prescribed me an Albuterol inhaler and some allergy medication. Four vials of blood were sucked out of me, and a complete blood work-up was ordered.

My first run after using my inhaler was nothing short of miraculous. Though my endurance is in a seriously pitiful place, I was able to run AND breathe simultaneously. I did not have to stop and bend over in order to attempt to suck in as much air as I could, and I did not feel even the slightest bit of panic due to the feeling of being strangled. It was as if I had been renewed. I felt like a runner again! I don't love using the inhaler, I hate being on medication, but I feel like it is helping me, and I am grateful for having a set of lungs filled with air again!

So back to the runstreak. It is now May 7, and I have run 7 days in a row! I am running 1.5 - 2.75 miles per day. I know the distance isn't there - YET - but I am already beginning to feel as if I could run farther at the end of each run. It is hot and humid outside, but now that I can breathe again, I feel like I have power and I feel my speed gradually beginning to return. This weekend, I plan to run a 4-miler, then next weekend, a 5-miler, then the next weekend, a 6-miler, and I plan to cap the month off with a 7-miler. Surprisingly, my legs feel strong each day. I suppose that is because I am not doing any real distance each day, but the continuity and the steadiness of my pace is hopefully allowing my legs to ease back into some real strength (and some of my thigh cheese to melt away). Incredibly, right now, I don't hate running. I am, however, frustrated with the feeling that I am starting over again completely.

My lab results came back yesterday, and my thyroid tested in the hyper range. I had feared that I had hypothyroidism, like my father, so this was a weird twist. Side effects of hyperthyroidism include shortness of breath (check!), restless sleep (bingo!), itchy & dry skin (bullseye!), moodiness & depression (BOOM), among a few others. I go back in 4 weeks to have my thyroid tested again, and we go from there. But to now know that there is a concrete reason for feeling like I have been falling apart for the past year or so is a such a huge relief.

One week down, three to go in my runstreak, and there's no real finish line in sight. My goals now are more humble, more like baby steps than giant leaps. I know that it will all come back to me, in due time.

The "L" Word

As of late, I have been practicing really, really hard at something, and have gotten really, really good at it.  I have been honing my craft, working to elevate it to its highest form or artistic representation.

I have been working toward becoming the laziest person on planet Earth.  And if not planet Earth, at least the laziest person in my area code.

It has literally become too much effort to work out.  And, many of you might want to kill me for saying this, I have loved every minute of it.

Augusta, as I have discussed ad nauseum, took a ton out of me, physically and mentally.  But I don't think it was just Augusta and the training leading up to it that did me in.  It was the past 3 1/2 years.  When I started running, I literally hit the ground running, and never stopped.  For 3 years, I was always training for something.  The training was everything I needed at the time, thanks to a terrible professional situation that was the focal point of my life (and my family's life) for 2 years.  Training helped me work out the stress, anger, and anxiety of that situation.  And I think Augusta was the finish line for a lot of things, figuratively speaking.  It was a culmination of this epic (sorry for the overused verbiage) life transformation that I thrust upon myself, and it was the release of a great many personal demons.  And those demons plopped themselves down, front and center, during the holidays.

With nothing to train for (at the time), I was left a little aimless in my fitness endeavors.  But I was also left with the baggage of the last few years, and realizing that I had never really, truly dealt with any of it, I hit a wall of emotions and anger that took me a bit by surprise.  This, of course, left me feeling physically weak and unmotivated to do anything about it.

I know, I know.  I should have hit the pavement and worked it out through training.  Believe me, I know just how beneficial training is for depression and anxiety.  But the more I thought about it, the more I began to wonder if all of the training I have done for the last 3 years wasn't just a way for me to push aside the real issues I needed to look in the eye, a way for me to focus on something besides my internal pain, a kind of a band-aid.

I continue to enjoy my little hiatus from the world of "crushing it".  It has given me a lot of time to think, and think some more, about where I've been, where I am now, and where I am going.  I don't want to give up what I have spent the last 3 years working so hard for, because it has become a part of me, but I do want to make sure that I am doing it in order to become a better person, and not just to put a mask on the person that I already am.  Does that even make sense?  

And so, I have 4 more days of my lazy bliss before I begin training for my next race.  I am excited to dive in, I am excited to work hard, and I am excited to look at everything through new eyes.  My journey is continuing, just on a slightly more beaten path.

The Triathlon Life For Me

Sunday, I got to play a brand new role: I was a sherpa/cheerleader/triathlon groupie at the Ameliaman/Atlantic Coast Triathlon in Fernandina Beach, Florida.  Having just come off Ironman Augusta 70.3, I was in no shape to "race", so I got to be a spectator at a triathlon for the very first time.

My husband was racing his very first 70.3 distance, and since he was patient/generous/gracious/wonderful enough to play the role of MY sherpa/cheerleader/triathlon groupie in Augusta, I thought it only fair that I do the very same thing for him.  That way, the kids could whine and complain cheer for their dad and their dad would have a reluctant enthusiastic cheering squad!

I was also fortunate enough to be able to cheer on and photograph many members of my tri club, who were competing in both the sprint and Olympic distance races.  And while in the wee hours of the pre-race dawn I was feeling edgy and weird that I wasn't zipping up my own wetsuit to race, I soon came to relish my opportunity to see my friends and fellow triathletes do what they do best, and see into their souls just a little bit.

It became obvious to me just why I have fallen so fast and hard for this triathlon life.  Yes, the training can get long and arduous.  Yes, the early morning wake-ups for races can be less than thrilling.  Yes, the hassle of hotels and travel can get old.  But, everything else makes up for those little things and then some.

Besides, how can anything be wrong with having the opportunity to witness this?

Or this?

I don't know that I usually take the time to appreciate the colors of sunrise when I am racing.  But I did yesterday, and I made a mental note to take a picture with my eyes of each and every sky before each and every race I do henceforth.

Watching my friends and teammates race yesterday gave me a little glimpse into their cores, and I came to love and appreciate them so much more.  Seeing their joy, their struggle, and their triumph made me appreciate the journey - both theirs and my own.  I mean, how can you NOT love triathlon when you know someone who can't stop smiling when she races?

Or these two bright and beautiful people who don't spend their days gardening or golfing, but who race and win at triathlon and life?

And sometimes, you have to turn the world upside down to really appreciate it:

Training for Augusta completely exhausted my body and my mind.  It took everything out of me, churned it up, and threw it into oncoming traffic.  Spending yesterday with my triathlon family was just the therapy I need to jolt me back to life.  Now, I can't wait to race again.

And the greatest payoff of all yesterday, for me, was seeing this guy cross his finish line:

Real men do triathlon!

My husband didn't think he could do a 70.3.  Even after watching me finish my race, he felt less prepared and less able.  But, as with everything else he puts his mind to, he showed himself that he WAS prepared and the he WAS MORE than able, and he showed that race who the boss was yesterday.  And I was happy to be a blissful observer.

The triathlon life.  It is SO for me.

Now what?

I knew it was coming.

That inevitable withdrawal that happens after a big race, after the dust has settled, and the excitement has worn off.  Although, I still haven't quite come down from my Ironman high just yet.  I catch myself silently gloating, inside my head, "I did a Half Ironman!" and I'll a little bit, because I just never thought I would do anything like this in my life. Ever.  I never thought I would be a runner.  I never thought I would be a triathlete.  I never thought I would be an Ironman, even HALF an Ironman.  So, this is a big deal.  And I am enjoying my accomplishment.  But I am feeling a tiny bit lost.

I promised myself I would take the week off from any training.  My body and my mind needed the break.  I broke down on Thursday and went to the pool for a swim.  I thought it would be a good way to ease into some light training after the race, maybe do 3000 yards or so before picking my daughter up from school.  Ha!  About 1000 yards into my workout, and in the middle of a backstroke set, my legs said, "Uh, whatcha doin?"  I was definitely still feeling fatigue, even though my muscle aches had subsided the day before.  So I eked out 2300 yards and called it a day.  Tomorrow I might try some light running, 3 or so miles.  Because I have to do something, or I will go crazy!

To go from training 6 days a week and 7-8 workouts to basically not doing anything but a swim workout and some yoga has got me all cagey.  I got so used to being a slave to a training program, and I realize now that I really do function well when I have a plan (please do remind me that of this statement when I am in the middle of the next training program and I am moaning and groaning about being burned out from training, I can take the verbal spanking).  So, I have started thinking about the next few months, and the next year.  What do I want to accomplish, and how much do I want to punish my body again?

The more I cross the finish line, the more I crave it again.  For the rest of 2013, I am dialing way back.  I might do a 5k and the annual Turkey Trot 10k on Thanksgiving, but that is about it.  But for next year, I want more.

No, I'm not talking a full 140.6.  I'm not ready for that, and the training time that a race of that magnitude requires is unreal.  Hubby and I have already decided that if we are going to slay that dragon, it will be when at least one of our kids is in college.  And that's about 4 years off.  Training for a 70.3 was very time consuming, but we were able to make it work well enough, so I am thinking of tackling that distance again next year.  Maybe Augusta - that damned bike course is my nemesis - or maybe a different course.  I love having options!

It's funny.  For months, I was all big talk and "I am NEVER going to do another 70.3 again, this is killing me!" and "This is a one and done deal." Never, though, in any space in my brain did I ever make room for the possibility that completing a long course triathlon would make me feel so GOOD.  I feel good physically, I feel good mentally, I feel good old-fashioned HAPPY for the first time in a long while.  It certainly is one good natural high.

Ridiculously happy triathlete!

Everyone should try the drug called triathlon.  The high is unbeatable, and you can get it again and again and again.